


Skyrocketing

by NinaNirina



Series: Kinktober 2020 [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff and Smut, Fluff before the smut, Kinktober, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaNirina/pseuds/NinaNirina
Summary: “They both hold their breaths, motionless, suspended in time. Two specks of intergalactic dust in the middle of the Universe. Irrelevant to anyone but each other.”Or a tale about Scott learning the many languages of love.
Relationships: Jaal Ama Darav & Ryder, Jaal Ama Darav/Male Ryder | Scott, Jaal Ama Darav/Ryder
Series: Kinktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950898
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Skyrocketing

**Author's Note:**

> My brain is unable to understand that the very purpose of Kinktober is to write short, smutty stories. So, if you’re here for the porn, skip to Part 4 – Godspeed.  
> Today’s kinks: **Body worship (kind of)+ Blowjob!**  
>  Yes, you get two for the price of one.

  1. **Skyrocketing**



“Scott, this is my brother from another mother—”

“Did you replace me while I was in a bloody coma, Sara—”

“ _Shush_. This is Jaal, pay attention,” Sara motions to the huge, purple alien standing in front of them. A wide, welcoming smile spreads across his lips, and a set of eyes Scott Ryder could only describe as magnetic. Blue orbs hanging in the blackness of space; planets that are practically asking to be discovered.

Scott swallows.

“And Jaal, this is my actual brother from…my same mother, I guess,” she makes a flourish with her hand and Scott cringes at his sister’s bad humour.

But Jaal, _oh Jaal_. The colossal man tilts his head and lets a blooming laugh erupt from the bottom of his heart. Scott’s eyes widen, and he feels frozen on the spot. He’s not entirely sure _how_ , but he can almost feel the vibration of Jaal’s laugh pulling at his skin. He looks down at his own hands, marvelled, feeling a soft buzz on his fingertips.

Sara smiles, shaking her head, and nudges him. “Bioelectric fields. Pretty cool, eh? Your hair is standing on, by the way.”

Shit. Scott raises his hands to try and flatten the fuzzy mess that is his hair, when Jaal decides to go in for a hug. Big, strong arms engulf Scott in an embrace that knocks half the wind out of his lungs. As if this angaran man couldn’t be more breath-taking, already.

“I am happy, no, _delighted_ to meet you, Scott,” he says while pulling away, leaving Scott enveloped in a haze of mixed fragrances: flowers, and earth, and fresh grass, and things so alien yet so homely it makes his heart flutter.

He needs to answer. But Scott’s tongue topples over his own incompetence to focus, and the only coherent action he manages is the stupidest smile ever.

“Sure, delight— _Jaal_ , Jaal. Cool to meet you,” he fakes a cough and he can tell Sara is making a face besides him.

If Jaal finds anything suspicious in his display, he doesn’t say, instead clapping him and Sara on the shoulders. “Well, Liam is waiting for me; see you both on the Tempest. I can’t wait to work by your side, Scott.”

His smile is still beaming, like a fucking ray of sunshine, and as he goes away, Scott squints like a man blinded by a sunset.

“Amazing, uh?”

“And you’re not dating him?”

“Nope.”

“ _Why,_ ” Scott turns on his heels, facing his sister with a puzzled look. Why would someone look at that living, breathing work of art and decide that _nah, it wasn’t their type_.

Sara, apparently. Sara, who is now placing both her hands on Scott’s cheeks, like she used to do when they were little. “Ground yourself, _rocket_. There will be plenty of time to meet him and fall out of this crush at first sight, okay?”

Scott is not convinced, but has faith in the wisdom of his sister. After all, she is the one usually in possession of their shared _common sense_ brain-cell.

  1. **Leaving atmosphere**



Turns out, Sara lost their shared-brain cell somewhere in the Heleus cluster along her travels. And Scott finds this very rude, mind you, because what is he supposed to do now, with only gushes of wind blowing inside his head every time Jaal strikes with his disarming personality.

“The way your mind works is…refreshing," he tells Scott one day on the Tech Lab, while they are both bent over the scattered pieces of a combat droid.

Scott looks up from his work, gripping the precision tools as if his life depends on it. He opens his mouth, a silly fish blowing bubbles inside a tank, but no words come out.

Jaal, relentless, pushes forward. “For days, the solution to this project evaded me; it only took you some minutes to figure out the problem,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Thank you, for your patience and time with me, Scott.”

There are sparkles in his beautiful blue eyes, and endless warmth in his voice. Scott blinks twice, blinded again by his brightness.

Say something, _rocket_ , c’mon. A mesh of sounds resembling human speech leave his mouth. “It’s just— Y’know, it’s alien tech for you, I mean, it’s hard enough for me, so I imagine… It’s not as if you grew up with this kind of technology—” he keeps trailing off, unable to convey everything he wants to say.

You’re smart, Jaal. You’re brilliant, intelligent, amazing, and I can’t believe you picked up tech from _another galaxy_ and managed to learn its secrets so fast.

But Scott doesn’t know how to say all of this, and instead, looks back down again at his work, fearful to see disappointment on Jaal’s lovely eyes.

  1. **Re-calculating trajectory**



Scott _rocket_ Ryder. Dad always called him that, and Sara soon followed the trend. With his head on the clouds, far above the ground, floating in the boundless Universe. Who knows what’s in his little head filled with curls and calculations.

Everyone talked about Scott as if he was some misunderstood genius. Don’t mind his awkwardness, pay no attention to the way he sometimes stutters. He’s a gifted child.

But the problem with gifted children is that they are put in glass cases, on top of a shelf like trophies, only to be bothered when they needed some dusting. And while the shelf was comfortable, it prevented Scott from learning things other people knew naturally.

Communicating, bonding, setting boundaries. Everyone struggles with those, said Sara to him once, but Scott feels his inner code is _particularly_ messed up. He doesn’t say it, of course, but a knot of frustration tangles itself on his throat.

Scott runs his thumbs over the soft patterns of the fabric he’s holding. Intricate embroidery decorates it, shapes he could not have dream of, reminiscent of a culture born hundreds of light years away from his own. Jaal’s culture. Now in his hands, a _rofjinn_ gifted with honour, and more importantly, with love.

Love.

The shimmering threads of the cloth glide effortlessly under his touch, much like Jaal’s smooth skin under his caresses a few nights ago.

Scott bites his lip, emotions heavy on his chest. The knot of frustration strangling his neck, blocking the air he tries to draw in. He didn’t know what to say. Jaal came in like a summer breeze, kissed him all over his face, gifted him a piece of his culture, of his heart, and Scott Ryder only mumbled a _thank you very much_.

Hot tears threaten to spill, but Scott blinks them away. Jaal didn’t reprimand him, didn’t even acknowledge Scott’s dispassionate reaction to his wonderful gift. Instead, he beamed up at his pathetic _thank you very much_ , and left just as he came.

A flowery scent swirls in the air. Scott drinks on it, closing his eyes. Words left unsaid boil under his tongue. Anger and disappointment and…and…

Sadness.

Love isn’t supposed to be sad. Nor angry or disappointed. Scott opens his eyes again, and squeezes the _rofjinn_ close to his chest. He needs to tell Jaal all of his feelings. A couple of _‘yes I want to be with you’_ and _‘yes I like you a lot’_ are not enough. Not for Scott, anyways. He’s never felt this much love, this deep fascination for someone before. A gravitational pull to his orbit, irresistible, yet grounding.

Ground yourself, _rocket_.

He’s a gifted child. He’ll figure something out.

  1. **Godspeed**



Scott finds Jaal on the Tech Lab, of course. He practically lives there, amongst the chaos of tech pieces and precision tools, always bathing in the led lights and his little sun lamp. The contrast of colours blends across Jaal’s purple skin. He looks eerie, a nebula to be admired from afar. It makes Scott’s fingers itch, yet instead of tampering down his desires, he lets them drive him towards his goal.

Jaal turns around from his work, affection immediately taking over his features.

“Darling one,” he calls him, reverently, but furrows his brows the moment he sees Scott fidgeting. “Is there something wrong?”

Godspeed, _rocket_.

Scott shakes his head, taking a step forward and letting the door close behind him. He secures the lock –god forbid someone were to find them—and turns back to Jaal, who is patient but visibly nervous. Scott takes a few more steps, testing his own resolution, and finds solace in the faint, yet thrilling excitement that creeps in his stomach.

“Jaal,” he tries his name in his tongue. It feels like a sigh, a puff of air after a long laugh, after an intense high.

“Yes?” Jaal asks, attention undivided, curious. He’s leaning against the table, arms crossed, and Scott finds it easier to corner him this way.

Or attempt to, at least, given his size. Regardless, Jaal loosens his posture, smile ready to appear. He bends down to kiss Scott the second he steps in his personal space, but is met with a pair of fingers in his lips. Jaal cooks a brow ridge.

“I want to…tell you something,” Scott starts, breath caught in his lungs with anticipation. His fingers are still on Jaal’s lips, and he trails the shape of them, playing in the division of his bottom lip.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes. Telling you my thoughts, my feelings,” Scott smiles then, because Jaal peeks his tongue out and flickers it at his fingers, teasing.

He leaves his mouth, gliding down to his chin, following that alien line with caution. His fingertips buzz once they reach Jaal’s throat, were the vibration of his subvocals intensify. “I want to make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

Jaal closes his eyes, in time with his field switching to a gentle current. Happy, content, Scott knows.

He keeps caressing the tender flesh of his throat, drifting to his cowl next. He adds the other hand, thumbs drawing circles until he catches the large scar that nips at Jaal’s side. “When I see you, I see the bravery behind your scars, Jaal. Your passion and resolution.”

Jaal’s chest rumbles with a sound resembling a purr, and Scott bits down a chuckle, proud of himself for once. His hands continue the exploration, travelling southward to his collar. The _rofjinn_ is in the way, so careful, Scott unclasps it just like Jaal taught him. He sets the cloth in a chair besides them, always followed by Jaal’s sharp gaze.

Once he returns to his work, Jaal attempts to catch him in his arms, but Scott stops him again. A soft groan leaves Jaal’s lips, and Scott perks up a bit, interested. His determination falters for a second, but returns once he finds himself running his hands up and down Jaal’s arms. Oh gods, his arms.

“And your strength. I love how strong and—” he swallows in embarrassment, Jaal’s muscles tensing under the brush of his fingertips, defined and toned. “— _Firm_ you are. Handsome, stunning…”

His fingers drift to his chest, and there the quiver is more noticeable, Jaal’s grumbles raising enough to become a constant whir. Scott licks his lips, and places the whole palm there, leisurely roaming the broadness of his lover’s chest. A sigh gets caught on Jaal’s lips, and when Scott glances up to meet his eyes, he finds the black void of Jaal’s pupils expanded in hunger.

They both hold their breaths, motionless, suspended in time. Two specks of intergalactic dust in the middle of the Universe. Irrelevant to anyone but each other.

And then Scott lowers his palms, swiftly spreading his fingers through Jaal’s abdomen, darting dangerously close to his groin.

“Dearest, _please,_ ” Jaal’s voice breaks his docile silence, husky and breathless. His hands twitch, eager to reach Scott and return the caresses, the words, the love. But the moment he moves, Scott shakes his head in silence. No, not today. Another groan falls from his lips, but oh so diligent, Jaal leans back on the table, hands uselessly gripping the edges of it.

Fingers ghost over his crotch, and Jaal feels himself swell in excitement. He closes his eyes, and the grip on the table tightens. Scott’s sweet little fingers start unclasping his belt, releasing some tension over his already swollen opening.

“And, you know,” Scott finishes unfastening the front of his pants, letting the cool air suddenly hit his damp slit, driving out of him moan he cannot bite back. “I also really like your taste in my mouth.”

Insane, Scott wants to drive him insane. Jaal opens one eye, in time to see Scott kneeling in-between his thighs. The sight makes him buck his hips, and Scott smiles, hands already parting and working on his opening. His touch is as gentle as all the other ministrations, every movement calculated and wary, as if he could shatter Jaal with just a brush of fingers.

And perhaps he is not so far from the truth, but it takes his tongue instead to wreck him. That small, blessed tongue, silky and longer than an angaran’s, dipping inside him and curling along folds and ridges with ease. A shudder shakes Jaal to the core, and he feels himself emerge fully against Scott’s mouth, who hums in delight.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so big, too,” Scott’s voice trembles, with lust or with embarrassment, or both, but Jaal doesn’t care, because he’s lapping at his cock with that precious tongue, flattening it against his under ridge, flicking at the tip in short movements, swirling it around the base and going up again.

A loud, long growl quakes on his chest, unable to contain himself the moment Scott’s mouth close around his tip, lips pressing just _so perfectly_ , and stars, Jaal can’t stop himself, one of his hands burying itself on Scott’s soft, curly hair. Scott hums again in approval, with his cock on his mouth, and the vibration leaves Jaal panting.

More, he wants _more._ Scott knows this and delivers, bobbing his head and taking little by little more of him, tongue still pressed on his ridges. Jaal tugs his hair lightly, and Scott draws a whimper, pace fastening.

If he continues, if Scott keeps sucking him so _deliciously_ perfect, Jaal won’t last. He opens his mouth to tell him, yet another helpless moan escapes instead. “Scott, dearest, love, I—”

With a popping sound, Scott’s lips leave his cock, but his hands take hold instead, pumping Jaal through all his length. Scott’s breath is ragged, and his lips puffed. He looks up, hands still at work, merciless. “I want you to come in my mouth, I want all of you, Jaal.”

Jaal’s field snaps, a short, intense pulse travelling to Scott, who gasps and closes his eyes in need. His lovely mouth hangs open a moment, body shivering at the stimulation. And Jaal wants to take him whole, sink himself in his inviting warmth, in all the wetness of his mouth.

His desires are heard, and pure bliss envelops him when Scott’s lips take him in again. He keeps a hand stroking him near the base, focusing the twirls of his tongue on the tip, and then resuming the bobbing motion. Jaal’s field spikes, higher and higher, erratic and violent, before fracturing in millions of sparkles, forcing his eyes shut.

He comes hard and fast, his entire body tensing and his field lashing out in pleasure. His cock twitches inside Scott’s mouth, who gradually slides him off, tongue licking ever so slightly the remnants of Jaal’s orgasm. 

Scott brushes the corner of his lips, the back of his mouth still stinging with the aftertaste of Jaal. Less bitter and more watery, somehow hot and fizzy. Or maybe the fizzling feeling is the shock of the bioelectric field, still ringing in his hears, like static.

When he looks up, he finds Jaal gasping for air, eyelids heavy, and the most stupid smile ever. Scott smiles back at him fondly, standing up on wobbly legs after kneeling for a long time. A pair of arms catch him, this time without resistance, and Jaal brings him close to his chest, holding him like a treasure. His scent, of flowers and earth, mingles with sweat, and Scott chuckles, nuzzling in his throat in content.

“That—I liked that…uh, a lot” Jaal mumbles, voice raspy and coarse, words tumbling in his mouth.

Scott hears him open his mouth again, but then the clatter of teeth as he closes it back. A slightly mean sense of pride wash over Scott, who relishes in the knowledge that _yes_ , even Jaal, beautiful poet Jaal, stutters over his words.

They listen to each other’s breaths, before pulling away, longing in their eyes. Scott’s hair is tousled, Jaal’s smile is still the silliest thing, and they are still floating in the middle of dark space. Irrelevant and insignificant.

  1. **Orbiting**



“I never heard you speak to me like that before, dearest,” Jaal’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses on his shoulder, and Scott fights the urge to giggle at how much it tickles. They are both sprawled under the covers of Jaal’s bed, basking in each other’s warmth.

Scott ponders the question, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. And then decides to shake his head, sealing the secret inside the depths of his mind. “It’s just…something I came up with. I’m not really good at it, so I don’t know if I—”

A kiss stops his rambling, first on the lips, then on both his cheeks. “Thank you. It felt like a wonderful gift; I’ll treasure it,” Jaal promises, solemn, and Scott believes him.

There are still unspoken words between them, but neither disturbs the comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

>  **This is your unexpected and friendly reminder to rest and drink water.**  
>  Thank you for reading!


End file.
